


Ambrosia

by orphan_account



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not until you're ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambrosia

**Author's Note:**

> [ambrosia: "love, returned."]

_Not until you’re ready_ , is Alvin’s response every time every time he so much as hints towards it. For someone so eager to worm innuendo into every conversation, Alvin is more adamant about not having sex than Jude expected. 

“How will I _know_ when I’m ready?” Jude asks, frustrated.

“You’ll… know,” Alvin says evasively.

-

He feels guilty whenever the kid – Jude isn’t exactly a kid anymore, but Alvin will never completely get past their age difference – asks him about it. They’ve been together for longer than Alvin ever expected, in a real, mutual relationship. It’s past the point where he can pin Jude’s feelings on a fleeting teenage crush and into a territory Alvin’s never quite stepped into himself. 

Often he catches Jude looking at him with genuine affection in his _(fucking gorgeous)_ amber eyes, with intensity that hasn’t faltered once since they first started being a little closer than normal. The idea that Jude is pretending for his sake doesn’t cross his mind like it used to anymore. 

But whenever Jude glances at him with eyes that gleam with something more than innocent affection, Alvin panics. 

-

Jude thinks Alvin is avoiding him, but he figures out quickly that he’s only avoiding being with him alone.

“Alvin,” Jude says, rushed, as Alvin breaks away from the group when everyone splits up for their respective bedrooms. 

Alvin pretends not to hear and hurriedly closes the door behind him.

-

His heart and head are pounding as he slides his back against the door. His eyebrows furrow together and he sighs, realizing he can’t keep doing this forever. 

Alvin knows he’s being unfair. He remembers being Jude’s age, remembers the neediness, the uncontrollable insatiety. What’s worse is he knows that Jude knows the mechanics of it – the dry textbook version – but nothing past that. At most, the kid knows the sensation of slipping his hand down his pants, but Alvin isn’t even sure if he does _that_.

But he can’t do it. He can’t do that to Jude.

-

Jude exhales as he rests his forehead on the other side of Alvin’s door. He notices the resistance on the opposite side. Jude grimaces slightly, wondering why Alvin would need to go so far to stop him from even being able to speak with him. 

“Alvin,” he calls softly.

It takes a moment – Jude’s heart sinks but he resigns himself and almost turns to leave – but Alvin pushes the handle from the other side and lets the door creak open. Jude lets himself in.

“Hey, kid.” Alvin’s greeting isn’t as upbeat as usual. With a slight grimace, dreading the talk to come, he leans back against the door.

“Alvin,” Jude begins, and instantly the hurt in his voice guts Alvin through the heart, “Why are you trying to get away from me?”

“Get away from you?” Alvin tries to say with a laugh. “I’m just – “ he pauses, gestures to the bed with a vague hand motion, “getting ready to hit the hay.”

Jude knows he isn’t exactly lying and that always makes it harder to be mad – _it’s always hard to be mad at him_ – but before he can stop himself, the desperate words slip out of his mouth – “We used to do that together.”

The flash of pain across Alvin’s face is clear even in the dark. He shuts his eyes before exhaling deeply. Jude keeps going. 

“I know you’re upset with me, but not even being able to see you, or talk to you, is – “

“Upset with you?” Alvin sputters. “Why the hell would I possibly be upset with you?”

Jude stares blankly at him. “You’re… not mad?”

“ _Mad?_ ” Alvin lets out a genuine laugh this time. “Jude, what are you talking about?”

Jude’s cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being put on the spot. He looks off to the side and mumbles, “Well, I’m always asking about… that, and you always tell me I’m not ready, and I thought you’d finally gotten sick of me.”

Alvin just about dies from the rush of affection burning in his chest for this – _stupid, stupid_ – boy in front of him and it takes everything he has not to scoop Jude up and kiss the _fucking shit out of him_ – 

“It’s not that,” Alvin finally says, shaking his head out of relief, and runs his hand back through his hair. He reaches out an upturned palm and when Jude takes his hand, Alvin pulls him tightly into his arms. Jude makes a tiny noise from the force of falling against Alvin’s chest. 

“What is it, then?” Jude asks slowly. When he tries to look up at Alvin, he realizes that the man’s face is buried in his hair. 

Alvin lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh and after a long silence, his words come out muffled.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jude shakes his head into Alvin’s chest. “Is that what you’re worried about?” 

When the older man lifts his head back up to speak, Jude notices the downward curve of his furrowed brow and the concern etched across his face. He realizes that he never thought about how Alvin felt about this at all and suddenly a thousand reasons why Alvin might have said _no_ flood his mind and every single one is about trying not to hurt him.

“Well, yeah,” Alvin says with an uncomfortable grin. He looks off to the side. “I don’t want to be… that guy.”

Jude tilts his head.

“The guy who takes it away from you,” Alvin mutters. The words slide from his mouth like poison, dripping with disgust and self-loathing. 

“Alvin,” Jude says softly as he reaches up to touch Alvin’s shirt collar. “I don’t care about that. Besides, I’m not losing anything.” He runs his thumb over the flat of the fabric and it makes the hairs on the back of Alvin’s neck stand on end. “I’m actually gaining something.”

“Oh?” Alvin raises an eyebrow curiously – though he’s more focused on Jude’s hand than anything else. 

A blush spreads across Jude’s face and his eyes dart away as he mumbles, “A special night with someone I love.”

It’s probably his imagination but Alvin thinks the huge thump of his heartbeat reverberates around the whole room. The sensation of warmth burning under his skin and the lingering doubts still lodged in his mind suddenly melt away and all he wants now is to take Jude into his hands and just _show_ him how much he loves him – 

“Alright, Jude,” Alvin says shakily. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

A mischievous smile spreads across Jude’s lips. “I’m ready.”

-

Alvin perches on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly fiddling with the fabric of his pants while waiting for Jude to return after quickly stepping out. The anxiety knots his stomach but he breathes deeply and forces himself to calm down. Jude needs him to be composed – the first time he’ll need _me_ for advice, Alvin thinks with a half-grin – and he’d rather die than mess up the kid’s first time.

He wipes his clammy palms on the sheets and then smooths them flat. He’s already made the bed, rearranged the pillows upright, and made sure the bottle is in his bedside drawer, but he feels like forgetting a thousand things. He glances sideways at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look any less presentable than usual but he starts fussing with his hair anyway, flattening it back with his hand before remembering Jude’s offhand comments about how he likes the rebellious piece that falls in front of his eyes, and picks out a couple extra strands.

“Alvin?”

He almost jumps at the sound of Jude’s voice but manages to channel it into a smooth turn, and there the sight of Jude standing in front of him with a loose white shirt hanging off his shoulder makes the breath hitch in his throat. 

“Wow,” Alvin says. 

“W-what?” Jude asks, flushing with embarrassment. 

“You look great.”

“But I didn't dress up or – well, I guess, down,” Jude mumbles. He rubs his forearm, flustered. 

“Still.” Alvin says. “Come here.”

Jude shuffles forward, his too-long pant hems dragging on the floor. He sits next to Alvin on the edge of the bed and rests his head on the older man’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

“I missed this,” Jude says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. “Just being with you.”

Alvin slides an arm around Jude’s shoulder. The action comes naturally to both of them now – Jude shifting to nestle into the space under Alvin’s arm before Alvin even touches him. 

“Hey,” Alvin says, gently knocking his head against Jude’s. “No hard feelings about me being a douchebag?”

“There never are.”

Alvin grins and lays down, propping himself up on one elbow and beckoning Jude to join him. Jude hesitates – being on the bed, face to face with Alvin suddenly makes everything feel too real, too fast – but the gentle expression on Alvin’s face reassures him. The warmth is already seeping through his skin when he lays down. Alvin reaches out to touch Jude’s face.

“Do you, uh,” he says, voice sounding dry, “want to take the lead? I don’t want to go too fast for you.”

“Um. Alright, I can try.” Jude hesitates before slightly furrowing his eyebrows. “Close your eyes.”

Alvin tries not to smile as he complies – _god, he is so cute_ – and waits for whatever Jude is planning. He expects a touch on the face, maybe a chaste kiss. What he doesn’t expect is the shift of the bed, the sudden weight on his hips and legs pressed to his thighs. Jude is straddling him.

Alvin’s first instinct is to open his eyes but he doesn’t want to disobey Jude’s previous order. Besides, he thinks, this is definitely more interesting than what he had in mind. 

“Still closed,” Alvin reminds him, with a waving motion towards his face.

Alvin can hear the smile in Jude’s voice. “Good. Keep them that way.”

“Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing,” Alvin says. He angles slightly to be completely flat on his back so Jude’s weight is squarely resting on him. “You can use my cravat as a blindfold, if you want.”

“It’s not like that,” Jude says quickly, flustered. “I’m just… embarrassed.”

“Why?” Alvin asks. “You’ve got a pretty good thing going, for your first time. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” 

“Yes. I’m sure.” Jude closes his eyes and breathes. “Okay. I’m going to, um, start.”

Alvin wants to laugh at how clinical the kid is being but he holds his tongue in fear of scaring him off, like Jude is a small forest animal hesitantly approaching Alvin’s hand. He lets himself relax, allowing Jude to experience how the actions feels with his own fingers, to explore at his own pace. At first Alvin feels the light brushing against his shirt. He realizes Jude must be too nervous to touch him properly, with the full palm of his hands. Then he finds Alvin’s topmost shirt button, and after a pause, undoes it. The next button comes undone quicker than the first, and the third even faster until Jude masters his nerves and then Alvin’s whole shirt unravels, pooling onto the bed sheets. 

The movement stops except for an audible shaky exhale from Jude’s lips. 

“You alright?” Alvin asks, eyes still shut.

“Yeah,” Jude answers quietly. He sounds distracted. “I’m just... appreciating you.”

It takes Alvin a second to realize what he means. His face turns red.

“Is it okay if I touch you now?” Jude’s voice is small, and Alvin can tell he’s still nervous.

“You don’t have to ask,” Alvin responds with a loose grin. “Tonight I’m all yours.”

“Okay…”

The first touch comes so slowly its almost painful. Alvin feels Jude’s hand hovering for a few seconds before he makes contact, but when he does, Alvin suddenly feels like he’s never been touched before. Sparks fly under his skin when the pads of Jude’s fingers brush his stomach with lithe sweeping motions. His touch is delicate, laced with inexperience, but when his palms brush against Alvin’s bare sides, it doesn’t matter – all that does is being here, underneath Jude, in the blissful mercy of his hands. 

Jude roams, up Alvin’s chest, fingers sloping down the dip of his collarbone. He pushes the rest of Alvin’s shirt off and gently digs his thumbs into the space between his neck and shoulders, massaging the tense muscle underneath. Alvin groans.

“God, that feels good.”

Jude works him there a little more, digging deep into the knotted mass and revelling in the way Alvin groans and arches underneath him. He slides his hands up Alvin’s neck, slowly. His arms are too short to reach Alvin’s face so he leans forward, but with the movement, the front of his pants brushes Alvin’s and Alvin rolls his hips up before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Fuck,” he groans before throwing his forearm over his eyes in frustration. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jude says, adding playfully, “That's the whole reason we’re here.”

Before Alvin can say anything, he shifts forward again. He lays flat against Alvin’s chest and they feel each other’s hearts beating a mile a minute, separated only by thin cotton fabric. “Keep your eyes closed,” Jude says, and removes Alvin’s arm. Alvin’s eyebrows furrow slightly because he’s _dying_ to look at Jude but he obeys the order. 

The brush of lips against his is soft, unbearably so, and it takes everything Alvin has not to crush his mouth on Jude’s. He lays still and allows Jude to take his time. Every movement is agonizing, and Alvin could swear the kid is going as slowly as possible on purpose. They’ve kissed before, but goddamn, Alvin doesn’t remember the last time a kiss has turned him on like this. Jude takes Alvin’s lip between his, sucking it ever so slightly and Alvin arches, desperate to feel anything that isn’t the torture Jude’s putting him through.

Jude grins against Alvin’s mouth and decides to indulge him a little more. He pokes his tongue out, running it along Alvin’s lower lip before pushing in between them. The second Jude’s tongue brushes against his, Alvin can’t take it anymore; he grasps the back of Jude’s head and pulls him into a desperate kiss, one that’s suddenly fast and hungry on both ends that eventually breaks apart in a heavy, panting daze. 

“Alvin,” Jude breathes, and Alvin feels it shoot down to his lower half. He finally lets himself open his eyes and his heart skips a beat because he’s face to face with the most attractive boy in two worlds. 

“Jude…” He cups the back of his head, threading Jude’s silky black hair between his fingers. With his other hand, he reaches up to touch his face, stroking his cheek in slow sweeping motions with his thumb. Everything about Jude makes Alvin feel like his heart is going to burst. The soft peach hairs on Jude’s face; the warmth of his amber eyes; his scent, the movement of his lips when he says Alvin’s name, _everything_. He feels like a teenager in love for the first time, and in a way, he is. He’s never felt this way about anybody before.

Jude glances away, blushing with an embarrassed smile, and its only then that Alvin realizes how intensely he’d been staring at him. 

“Jude,” Alvin says softly. “Can I touch you?”

The colour on Jude’s face deepens and his eyes flutter back to meet Alvin’s gaze. “Yes.”

He sits back on his legs, allowing Alvin to sit up. Alvin hauls himself upright and leans his forehead to Jude’s, locks of tousled brown hair falling onto his head. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Alvin says, holding Jude’s sides. He’s gotten a bit taller but barely filled out, and in Alvin’s eyes he still seems as small as when they first met. He runs his hands up and down but he can’t get his fill with Jude’s shirt in the way. He slips underneath the loose fabric and when he touches his bare skin, Jude lets out a content sound. The noise makes Alvin’s heart race. He slides down Jude’s stomach, not quite reaching his hips before smoothing his hands back up to his chest. 

“Take it off,” Jude whispers absentmindedly. He lifts his arms as Alvin all but tears the shirt off, throwing it to the side and going back to handling every inch of Jude’s exposed skin. Their breathing is heavy, both caught up in the thrill of foreplay. Alvin holds him by the shoulders and buries his face in Jude’s neck, kissing him, sucking in the sweet scent of his skin. A tiny moan slips out of Jude before he covers his mouth.

“Don’t,” Alvin growls, “I want to hear everything.”

Jude swallows, flushed with embarrassment, both because of the noises and because Alvin enjoys them. He drops his hand. 

Sliding one hand from his shoulder to the dip of his back, Alvin gently lowers Jude down until their positions are reversed. He kisses him on the lips again, and Jude kisses him back eagerly. He notices Jude has gotten more adventurous, pushing deeper with his tongue, lasting longer, not taking breaks to wipe the saliva from his mouth like usual. He laces his fingers in Alvin’s hair. When its hungry and forceful, he grips tightly, and he loosens when its languid. Everything is hypersensitive when it’s slow; Alvin brushes his tongue with the very tip of his, curling it towards him, and Jude shudders. 

Alvin finally breaks away and a strand of saliva spans the inches between them. Jude shudders again, burning up with arousal, turned on by things he didn't even know turned him on. He pulls Alvin in again before he even catches his breath. He’s too lost in a haze of pleasure to realize he’s rolling his hips against Alvin, still straddling him. Alvin stops dead in the middle of the kiss. 

“What?” Jude asks breathily. 

Alvin exhales forcefully. His face is flushed but he still looks more composed than Jude does, with his half-lidded eyes and pink cheeks. “God, you are killing me, kid.”

“What did I do?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alvin says, smirking as he smears his mouth into Jude’s again. Immediately Jude is kissing him back, hard, with hunger that Alvin has never seen from him before. He’s hormonal and inexperienced, not knowing exactly what he wants but knowing he _wants_ it, bucking his hips desperately up against Alvin and not even noticing.

With one hand caressing Jude’s face as they kiss, Alvin slips his other one down Jude’s body. He wastes no time in giving Jude what he wants; he angles his palm into the front of Jude’s pants, letting Jude grind into his hand. With the new pressure and friction, Jude moans into Alvin’s mouth and Alvin gets hard in turn. He kisses Jude deeper, frustrated, while feeling his own pants tighten uncomfortably. He doesn’t know how long he can handle this half-clothed touching, but he doesn’t want to push Jude’s limits. 

Something fidgeting underneath him shakes him from his daze. His eyes widen when he realizes that Jude is fussing with his belt buckle.

“Whoa, hey,” Alvin sputters. 

Jude looks up doe-eyed, startled. “What?” Anxiety flashes across his face. “Sorry, I-I got impatient, I shouldn’t have – “

“Jude. Relax,” Alvin says gently. “You just threw me off guard for a second. I didn’t think you’d be so quick to get what you want.”

Jude shrinks into his shoulders, looking sheepish. “Sorry…”

Alvin shakes his head. He leans forward to whisper into Jude’s ear, “I’d love it if you finished what you started.”

Jude is too embarrassed to respond but immediately clamours to get Alvin’s buckle undone. It’s gone and out of the way within seconds as Jude tosses it to the floor. When he tentatively grasps the waistband of Alvin’s pants, a firm hand holds his wrist. 

“Not yet,” Alvin says. A mischievous glimmer flashes in his eyes. 

Jude looks up at him with confusion and then watches Alvin slide his hands down his sides, then scoot back on the bed until his head is at Jude’s hip level. 

“Alvin,” Jude breathes.

With a playful grin, Alvin lowers his face to the front of Jude’s sweatpants and brushes him there deliberately with his lips. Instantly Jude shudders and lets out a choked sound of pleasure before he can stop himself. It makes Alvin’s heart pound a mile a minute, and he wants more of _that_ , desperately, he wants to hear Jude completely lose himself in the throes of pleasure, by his hand. 

Alvin presses his lips to the bulge again – Alvin beams with satisfaction that he’s made Jude this hard – and revels in the way he squirms. Its clear Jude is trying to restrain the noises coming from his throat, but Alvin is determined to wring a full-fledged moan out of him. He envelops Jude through the fabric and gently moves his mouth. The touch is applied with just enough pressure that Jude craves more, and Alvin’s scheme works; Jude can’t control himself anymore and desperately pushes his hips up. 

“Please,” Jude whimpers. 

That’s all the invitation Alvin needs. He tugs Jude’s pants and underwear down by the waistbands in one smooth motion. A tiny squeak is muffled in Jude’s throat but he can’t hold back the moan that spills out as Alvin envelopes him, taking his whole cock into his mouth. He grasps at the sheets with repetitive clawing motions, too spurn on by pleasure to find purchase, and he lets out half-moans that sound suspiciously like Alvin’s name. Alvin is grinning slightly around Jude but he won’t be completely satisfied until he hears the entire thing. 

He lets go with a deliberately sloppy noise that makes Jude shudder, and immediately Alvin continues, licking up the side of his shaft with the flat of his tongue. Jude still grapples for something to hold on to, to distract himself from the overwhelming stimulation, when suddenly Alvin reaches out to hold one of his hands. He’s broken from the spell of pleasure momentarily, and instead he’s overcome with fondness for the man in front of him. He intertwines his fingers with Alvin’s and lays his head back down contentedly.

Wordlessly, Alvin returns to satisfying him. He sucks in long, tight motions that make Jude dig his fingers into Alvin’s hand. His small frame wracks with shivers, his toes curl; his body is young and easily stimulated and Alvin slows down for fear of making him come too fast. Jude whines in protest.

“Please, Alvin, I can’t take it anymore.”

Alvin barely controls his _own_ dick when he hears that. “Just a bit longer, kid. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Jude shoots him desperate glance, half doe-eyes and half burning with lust. The sweat makes dark strands of hair stick to his forehead. His cheeks are flush and his lips are swollen from kissing and he looks unbelievable and Alvin is trying his damn hardest not to lose it. He lowers his mouth back on Jude’s cock, deep, until it brushes the back of his throat. His gag reflex doesn’t kick in – _useful talent_ , Alvin thinks with a mental roll of his eyes – so he can focus all his attention on Jude absolutely writhing beneath him, clawing and hissing through his teeth. Alvin decides his torture has gone on long enough. He drags his tongue up Jude’s length and sucks him one more time before he feels every muscle in Jude’s body tense up. Jude clutches Alvin’s back, nails digging into his skin, and he moans agonizingly as it splashes into Alvin’s mouth but he doesn’t care; Jude is still coming, spilling incomprehensible noises of pleasure from his lips, and when one of them is Alvin’s name, Alvin swallows violently in surprise. He coughs and Jude, now finished and lying crumpled in a heap of sweat and hormones, looks up at him with concern.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Jude asks breathlessly, struggling to sit up. Alvin has to stop himself from laughing at the mortified expression on his face.

“Never been better,” Alvin says with a grin.

Jude collapses back on the bed and rolls over in embarrassment. “I didn't mean to, um. You know.”

“Come?”

Alvin laughs silently through his teeth as Jude groans and smothers his face into the pillow. “Yes,” his reply comes out muffled. 

“That was the point, you know,” Alvin says, leaning into Jude’s ear. He turns him gently so that he can see his face. His bangs are damp with sweat and he looks exhausted, but his content expression is unmistakeable. Alvin beams. “How was it?”

Jude’s eyes flicker to the side but the corners of mouth turn up in a small smile. “…Good.”

“That’s it?” Alvin says. “I give you a rockin’ orgasm and all I get is ‘good’?”

Jude’s eyes come back to meet his. “Well…” He reaches up to stroke the back of Alvin’s hair. “We’re not done yet, are we?”

Alvin’s jaw almost drops. “You’re still – we’re still going to - ?”

Jude laughs, and the sound makes Alvin’s heart flutter.

“I told you I wanted to, didn’t I?” Jude says gently. 

Alvin closes his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright.”

-

They don’t end up doing it.

By the time Alvin strips his unnecessary clothes, quickly washes himself and finally finds the bottle of lube, he returns in a dishevelled huff to find Jude completely passed out on the bed. Alvin blinks, then sighs again with a tired smile. He stuffs the bottle into the night table and collapses next to Jude, who’s still half-undressed. Alvin doesn’t bother disturbing him; he lifts the blanket and covers them both. 

Jude stirs slightly, eyelashes fluttering. His face is soft with fatigue as he looks up at Alvin with warm amber eyes. 

“Alvin?” he mumbles. “What happened?”

With a smile, Alvin pets Jude’s hair. “Someone got a little tired, I think.”

“Did I fall asleep?” he asks, words muffled and quiet.

“I think you’re asleep right now,” Alvin says with a soft laugh. 

Jude lets his eyes close again and he shuffles closer to Alvin’s chest, resting his forehead on him. He feels the curl of a smile on Jude’s lips against his skin, and feels his mouth move when he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “I love you”, but Alvin doesn’t bother to ask him to repeat it. Jude will tell him again, when he’s not half-asleep. When he’s ready.


End file.
